


no words; jschlatt

by madisonmilnes



Series: The Song Short Stories of the Dream SMP [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29457216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madisonmilnes/pseuds/madisonmilnes
Summary: please refer to the song "no words" by cody jinks before reading this work. it will help it make sense.
Series: The Song Short Stories of the Dream SMP [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163663
Kudos: 2





	no words; jschlatt

**Author's Note:**

> please refer to the song "no words" by cody jinks before reading this work. it will help it make sense.

_ my whole view of the world has changed, _

marlowe stares blankly at the man in front of her, taken aback by his harsh words.

_ i guess that comes with age. _

‘why do i do this to myself?’ she thinks as he begins apologizing profusely.

_ i don’t believe there’s good in every man, _

the stinging on her cheek brings tears to her eyes, schlatt’s angry eyes boring into her caramel skin.

_ like i did back then. _

“i fucking hate you, schlatt.”

_ i may drink more than i should, _

“i hate you too!” he slurs, slamming his hands onto the table in front of him.

_ you’ve seen me on the floor. _

“god, you’re such a bitch!” he screams, knocking a beer bottle off the table, sending it shattering across their kitchen floor.

_ spent my lifetime in this cage _

she slams their bedroom door shut behind her, sitting down on the king bed they once shared.

_ i’ve built around me, _

sobs shake her frail body, her head in her hands as she can hear him screaming from downstairs.

_ banging on the door. _

“after all i’ve done for you, you ungrateful bitch!”

_ and no words, _

months later, he is sat in the same position marlowe was once sat in, terrified of him.

_ could ever say how much i need you. _

he grips his brown hair in his hands, the realization of her leaving slowly setting in.

_ with you here, _

he remembers the three a.m. talks they once had, giggling at one another until the sun rose.

_ you make this life i lead worth living. _

he remembers taking walks once the sun rose in a failing attempt to wear themselves out.

_ heaven knows i broke your heart, _

he remembers when it all went to hell, when he became the president of l’manburg.

_ i can’t take that away. _

he broke her heart by becoming a tyrant of l’manburg, and their relationship.

_ all i’m worth is just this promise that i’ve made to you, _

he remembers telling her that he wouldn’t change, watching the schlatt 2020 posters being hung up from their bedroom window.

_ to stand beside you, _

“you pinky promise?” he remembers her asking weakly, putting out her pinky finger like they did when they were kids.

just like you stood beside me.

“i pinky promise.” he replied, a promise that would soon after be broken.

_ and no words, _

the image of her grinning face is plastered on the front of his brain, the only thing keeping him from never waking up again.

could ever say how much i need you.

he fucked up, he knew that.

_ with you here, _

he knew that he ruined her emotionally, in an attempt to ease his stress.

_ you make this life i lead worth living. _

but as he watched her pack her bags and move to snowchester with tubbo,

_ you could be much better off,  _

he realized he lost the one thing keeping him sane.

_ god knows without me. _

and he realized that it was for the best. not for him, but for her.

_ and that's why, _

the fights they had were loud enough for everyone living on their street to hear, keeping them up into the late hours of the night.

_ i just can’t find the words. _

the names they would call one another, the shattering bottles, and the sounds of things being thrown.

_ you could be much better off, _

those sounds still echoed through his ears, months after. he looks at the picture of the two of them on the nightstand. they were grinning fools, with her putting her thumbs up and him laughing.

_ god knows without me. _

so when someone knocks on the door, he is pulled out of his trance. he drags himself out of bed to open the door, revealing quackity.

_ and that’s why, _

“schlatt, marlowe’s dead.” he says, stepping away from the door to avoid being blown up on, but that never happens.

_ i just can't find the words. _

**Author's Note:**

> hello, and welcome to the first work of 'the song short stories of the dream smp'. in this i will be taking songs, putting their lyrics into the story (the italics) and creating a short story that goes with the meaning of the song. for one, i do not think that schlatt is a shitty person in real life, only in the dream smp so this story does not reflect his real actions. i hope you enjoy the short stories, and potentially find a new song you enjoy.


End file.
